


The Communication of One Anthony J. Crowley With Associate A. Z. Fell From the Year of Someone’s Lord 1862 to the Post-Armageddon Era

by IneffableDoll



Series: Ineffable Confessions of Love [13]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Arguing, Asexual Aziraphale (Good Omens), Asexual Crowley (Good Omens), Asexuality, Bickering, Dialogue-Only, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), Happy Ending, Historical References, Holy Water, Humor, I promise you a bridal carry at the end, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Love Confessions, Love Letters, Minor canon divergence, Mutual Pining, Old Married Couple, Other, Rating for Language, because I'm me and you should expect this by now, if that interests you, if you're unsure of whether to read this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:07:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25039714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffableDoll/pseuds/IneffableDoll
Summary: What it says on the tin, really.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Ineffable Confessions of Love [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1714558
Comments: 28
Kudos: 108
Collections: Aspec-friendly Good Omens





	The Communication of One Anthony J. Crowley With Associate A. Z. Fell From the Year of Someone’s Lord 1862 to the Post-Armageddon Era

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by [it's a new craze](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20062966) , [Fancy Patter on the Telephone](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23975911) , and [Texts from an Unknown Number](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21422644) to try writing a fic entirely out of dialogue and letters. I highly recommend reading those fics, they’re all amazing and definitely better than this train wreck. It was SO much harder than I expected!! Seriously, this took ages!! And I’m not happy with it AT ALL but I don’t want to work on it anymore, so here ya go.  
> There’s a good deal of stolen dialogue from the show here, though I’ve tweaked it here and there for my purposes.

1862

_Fraternizing?”_

“Well, whatever you wish to call it. I do not think there is any point in discussing it further.”

“I have lots of other people to _fraternize_ with, angel.”

“Of course, you do.”

“I don’t need you.”

“Well. The feeling is mutual. Obviously.”

_Obviously.”_

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Stupid angel. Like I need his help, anyway. Don’t need him at all, in fact. A demon, needing an angel. Laughable. _Fraternizing._ We’re not _fraternizing._ Don’t even – there’s nothing even happening here.”

“…”

“Just wanted a small favor. Bit of insurance is all.”

“…”

“Why did he think I’d use it on me? Does he know me at all?”

“…”

“Guess not.”

“Um, sir, are you…alright? You’re muttering to yourse-“

“Stop talking. Walk away. Yes, good. What was I saying?”

“…”

“Dammit. I’m talking to myself in the middle of a park.”

“…”

“Fix this, Crowley. Just go talk to him. It’ll be fine.”

Still 1862 but a couple hours later

“Angel! Angel, you home?”

“Crowley! What in Heaven’s name are you doing here? And the door was locked, why are you barging in loud as a herd of elephants?”

"Ah, was it? Er. My bad. Always unlocked for me. Anyway, I brought pastries!”

“…”

“Um.”

“And why, exactly, have you done this?”

“Er. They’re those ones you like from the bakery on Wardour Street, with all those ugly doilies on the backs of the chairs?”

“I’ve told you, it’s called an antimacassar-“

“Yes, yes, anyway. Here.”

“Er. Right. But Crowley, I-“

“Don’t thank me. Anyway, I’ve got a temptation to do in Nottingham. Anything in the area?”

“Crowley, you-“

“If it’s nothing too big, I’ll take care of it and such. The Arrangement and all. So, do you-“

“Crowley, I do say, stop interrupting me!”

“…”

“…”

“Er.”

“You’re insufferable. Crowley, we’re not doing this right now, do you understand? I can’t just pretend we didn’t talk earlier today. Don’t think I don’t see what you’re trying to do.”

“Angel, I just-“

“Hush, I’m talking right now. I am thoroughly _put out_ that you would ask this of me. I hate to even speak of the matter; I’ve washed my hands of it. I’m going to have to request that you leave until a later date.”

“Aziraphale-“

“Do just go. I don’t want to have to keep holding the door.”

“…” 

“…”

“Fine. Plenty of things to be doing anyway.”

“Likewise. Good day.”

“Whatever.”

“…”

“…”

“Oh, I truly don’t understand him, sometimes.”

“…”

“He’s a demon. I’m not supposed to understand him.”

“…”

“But that he would just…out of nowhere…I thought he valued-“

“…”

“Oh, it will do no good to think on this any longer.”

“…”

“I’ll just…take these pastries to Miss Maisie.”

“…”

“Well. Maybe I’ll just…have one.”

1867

“…”

“…”

“Er. Hi.”

“…What are you doing here, Crowley?”

“What, so I’m not allowed to walk through the park in the middle of the day anymore?”

“It’s closer to late afternoon, but you know that’s not what I meant. Um – I have to ask, are you in mourning?”

“Wot?”

“The black dress. And veil. And – are your petticoats also black?”

“Why yes, thank you for noticing.”

“That must’ve been expensive to put together. All that black lace. And the ruffles.”

“Nah, you know I miracle it up. Was inspired by Queen Victoria; she’s really making a statement. Six years and running! Can’t have her outdo me.”

“Dear, she is mourning her late husband! It’s not for fashion! Oh, good Lord.”

“Did you know, people are very nice to you if you pretend that you’re a widow? For me, my husband died in a very dramatic stand-off in the Second Opium War. Can you believe they needed a second one?”

“That is unspeakably inappropriate, Crowley. I can’t believe you!”

“Demon.”

“Clearly. Were you involved in that ridiculousness? I thought you said you were in Nottingham?”

“Nottingham? Angel. You do realize that tempting a teenager to steal a pocket watch doesn’t take multiple years, yeah?”

“W-Well, I simply hadn’t given any thought to your location since then. At all. What are you doing back in London, then?”

“Eh. Not starting decade-old drug wars, for one. Been busy in the States, actually. They had a tiff, lots of internal strife, barely had to do a thing. Even got a president assassinated totally on purpose.”

“Didn’t the colonies decide to end their slave trade because of that war? Or at least take steps to.”

“…Maybe. Wasn’t paying attention.”

“…”

“Look, Aziraphale-“

“Crowley, I-“

“…”

“…”

“You first, angel.”

“Ah. Um.”

“…”

“Are you still wanting…that? What you asked for, then?”

“…Yes.”

“Well. You won’t be getting it from me, you know.”

“I know.”

“I wish you’d give up this ridiculous idea.”

“Aziraphale…”

“It’s simply too dangerous to even consider. I don’t know what gave you the notion. We’re already risking enough as it is! That is entirely too far!”

“You don’t-“

“I’m not going to do it, no matter how much you tempt me. I won’t give in to your wiles, not this time-“

“I’m sorry!”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…What?”

“Listen, I’m sorry, okay?”

“Um. Thank you?”

“Great. Now will you please stop yelling at me in the middle of St. James?”

“What? Oh. Oh my. How embarrassing, I didn’t mean to – oh, goodness gracious. People are staring.”

“Yes, because you’ve been _shouting_ at me in the middle of a public park in London like a _maniac_. Now how about we keep walking and I can tell you my thing, if you’re done?”

“Right. Of course. Let’s.”

“…”

“…”

“I don’t want it to use on myself, Aziraphale.”

"Then what in the _world_ is it for?”

“Other demons.”

“…Why would you-“

“You know exactly why, angel. I know how dangerous this is too, okay? If Hell found out we’ve been fraternizing, as you so eloquently put it-“

“Crowley-“

“I know exactly what they’d do. Whatever you’re guessing, it’s probably worse. I told you before, my side doesn’t send rude notes. And I may have them convinced now, but this won’t last forever. You know that.”

“…Yes, I do.”

“So, that’s all I wanted it for. Insurance. For if – when – Hell…”

“Crowley…perhaps it would simply be better if we saw less of each other.”

“What?!”

“I do have a good idea of how Head Office would feel about all this. I won’t have you going around carrying that when we could just as easily…lessen our interactions. That would be infinitely safer.”

“…You’re serious. That would _actually_ be better than just giving me a damn vial of it or something? Are you kidding me?”

“There’s no need for that tone-“

“I can’t do this right now, angel. We’re not having this conversation right now.”

“I’m not-“

“You want to see less of me? Fine. Fine by me. Whatever.”

“Crowley, it’s not like I want this-“

“See you in a century then, angel, like the good ol’ days!”

“Crowley!”

“…”

“Oh, bugger.”

1878

_Dear Angel,_

_Why do you have to be so goddamn stubborn? I don’t understand why this is better for you, to never see me. I know as well as you do that it’s not because you don’t like me. I’m not that stupid and neither are you. But I’d much rather be in danger with you than safe by myself. Guess you feel differently._

_I don’t know what to write._

_It’s not even been a full year since we last talked. And it’s not like I want to see you, but I miss [unintelligible] our Arrangement. What could I possibly say to make you understand why I asked you for that? How do I fix this? Why do I always mess it up?_

_Fuck, I’m not sending thi_

1879

_Dearest Angel,_

_I’ve always wanted to call you that, you know. I [unintelligible] fuck, spilled the inkwell. Hard to write drunk. Wish I was drunk with you. I’m so bored. I just want to talk to you. Bet you’re off having fun with all those people you fraternize with and I’m here half out of my mind. Why am I even writing this. Damn, I’m tir_

1883

_Angel,_

_Who came up with the phrase “third time’s the charm?” Everything’s in threes. It’s bloody weird. Wait, is it ‘cause of the Holy Trinity thing? I dunno. Don’t care, really. It’s just that this is the third time I’ve tried writing you a letter and. Fuck. I didn’t want to tell him that. Nevermind._

1889

_My Angel,_

_Damn, that’s possessive. A bit creepy, actually. I just wanted to try writing it once. Someone knows I’ll never say it to your face. Think you might ruin your clean track record just to smite me for it. Wouldn’t blame you._

_Do you miss me like I miss you? I still want the holy water. And I’m still mad at you for it. I might just be determined enough to last a whole century, you know. Bet I will. It’s already been twenty-two years, not that I’m keeping much track. Only seventy-eight more to go. 1967. Wonder what the world will look like, then. Humans are coming up with stuff so fast lately, wouldn’t be surprised if everything is totally different. Maybe London won’t even be there anymore. Cities have disappeared quicker._

_Why am I still writing this? I already know I won’t send it. But it kinda makes me feel like I’m talking to you. Even though I’m not. Fuck it all._

_Signed, Yours_

_(Always wanted to write that. Burning this now, like all the others.)_

1917

_Angel,_

_You know this wasn’t my fault, don’t you? I know it makes you feel better to blame me for this kinda stuff, but you know I didn’t. I wouldn’t. Yes, I’ve been encouraging scientists and shit, but I didn’t think they’d make fucking chemical warfare a thing. Chlorine gas is a bitch. Have you seen what it does to the humans? It’s not even the physical stuff that’s the worst. It’s like it messes with their heads. The stress of it. It’s like the Middle Ages when priests would walk around with holy objects and just splash crowds at random sometimes to ward off – well, me. I don’t think I ever told you about that, actually. Definitely won’t now. Bit touchy, I imagine._

_Can’t wait for this to be over. Wars always suck but…yeah, just really want this particular one to wrap it up._

_With lo_

_Shit, I’m not writing that_

1926

_Angellllll_

_I like writing those loopy l’s. Angellllll. It’s fun. Like writing your name. Aziraphalllllle. Look at that._

_I am specta_

_Speltac_

_Splectaclary_

_Very drunk. I miss you. Wanna dance with you. Fashion in this decade is so interesting. Been female since we last met and the Edwardian period was a blast, lemme tell you, but skirts are above the ankle, now, you know that? For some, anyway. Bet that’d scandalize you. Not cuz women but cuz you’re always all buttoned-up, always have been n I don’t think I’ve seen your arms since like Rome??? Question marks are fun. ??? look at that all loopy. I like questions. Like asking em_

_I was doing good not writing letters to you but I just wanna talk to you you know. Why’d I have to say a century? Still uhhh forty years to go? Can’t count right now. Wonder what you’d say if I showed up at your doorstep now. Wonder if you’re still mad at me. I know you’re only upset cuz you’re worried about me. You don’t want me hurt but I promise I’ll be careful, love. Don’t want to leave you either._

_Got a car. Wonder what you think of cars. She’s a beauty. All sleek and black and shiny and fast. Very fast. Don’t even need petrol, and she just goes zooming anyway. Love her. Not as much as you._

_Shit, not supposed to say that. Write. Write that. I’ll burn this before I say something else incrimim_

_Inciminal_

_Incrinating._

_Something bad._

1932

_Angel,_

_I have avoided London for the past few decades, but I couldn’t resist driving through today. Didn’t even stop anywhere. I haven’t been in Europe much, lately. Been preferring Japan, spent some time in South America. The States just keep getting bigger, you know that? Don’t get me started on the Philippines. Been doing all sorts of stuff with movies and books lately. Bet you know all about the books already. Hung in India for a couple years._

_Anyway, saw your shop. Just drove by, once or twice. Maybe a few times, whatever. Looks the same as it did when I brought you those chocolates back in 1800. You remember that? You almost got recalled. I managed to keep you here. Couldn’t let you go that easily because I’m too selfish to let that happen. Now I kinda feel like I’ve lost you anyway._

_As you can see (or, actually, can’t, since I never send these), seeing the shop has left me feeling down. Since when does a demon feel down? Especially with this whole economic crash the world’s having. Should be elated. I’m just tired. Maybe I’ll sleep for a bit._

_Ever yours._

1941

“That was very kind of you.”

“Shut up.”

“Well, it was. No…paperwork, for a start.”

“…”

“Oh, the books! Oh, I forgot all the books! Oh, they’ll all be blown to…”

 _“Argh_ …Little demonic miracle of my own. Lift home?”

“…”

“Ah, angel? You alright? Explosion rattle your brains a bit?”

“Oh. Oh! Ah, no. No, I’m. Er. Quite alright. Yes. Thank you. I’m perfectly fine. Perfectly normal. And, er, you?”

“Eh. Wars. Could be better.”

“Ah, I meant your – your feet.”

“Oh, yes. They’re fine. Nothing to worry about.”

“You’re hopping back and forth. They certainly don’t seem alright.”

“Well, they are. Just a little hot is all. Not a problem. Come on, I’ll take you to the shop.”

“…”

“…”

“Oh, this is your car?”

“Yup. Had her from new. She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?”

“I don’t care much for these automobiles. They’re really much too loud.”

“Come on, angel. Least there aren’t so many horses around, shitting everywhere. Just pull the handle there. No, not like – here, I’ll get it. Don’t scratch the dash with that bag.”

“I must say, this isn’t terribly uncomfortable.”

“Course not. Alright, shall we?”

“O-Oh! It’s so strange being in one when it’s making that grumbling noise. Is it supposed to sound like that?”

“Have you seriously not ridden in a car even once? It’s been, like, forty years since they were invented!”

“I simply never had the occasion for one! Trains are still perfectly functionable even in this era of new spangled technological advances.”

 _“New_ – last I heard, you thought trains were the ones that were too loud!”

“Yes, well-“

“Nevermind, you’ll warm up to cars eventually. They’re like buggies but better in every conceivable way. Now, let me show you what this baby can do!”

“I don’t – Crowley! _Crowley,_ for Heaven’s sake!”

“Haha!”

“Slow _down_ , Crowley, you’re going to discorporate us! Oh, Lord!”

“Come on, angel, just enjoy the thrill of it!”

“I will do _no such thing!_ Crowley, slow down this wretched vehicle _this very instant-“_

“It’ll only be a minute, angel. I promise I won’t crash!”

“I seriously doubt tha- Crowley, don’t accelerate, oh! Oh, I can’t watch!”

“Woop!”

“Oh, Heavens!”

“…”

“…”

“We’re here, angel. You can look now.”

“…”

“Jeez, you really did a number on my seats. Your fingernails cut right through the cushion. Nothing a little miracle won’t fix.”

“…”

“You can let go now.”

“…Yes. Of course.”

“Deep breaths, angel. So sorry about that.”

“No, you’re not, you fiend! You’re grinning at me like an utter madman! Which you are one! Oh, get me out of this thing this very minute.”

“Oh, angel. Alright, alright, I’ll get the door since you apparently don’t have a clue how to work it yourself.”

“…”

“Better?”

“Quite, my dear.”

“…You’re gonna break the handle on your bag if you keep clutching it like that, Aziraphale. You sure you’re okay? You’ve looked a little off since the church. Nazis say something to ruffle your sensibilities?”

“No, I promise you, I am completely well. Though they weren’t exactly pleasant people. They were Nazis, after all, and I’m still a bit miffed about Miss Rose – er, Greta, rather.”

“Word of advice, angel: stay out of the spy business. Not your scene.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“…”

“…”

“Right. I’ll, uh. Let you get to it, then.”

“Crowley.”

“Aziraphale?”

“I’m…um. That is. Won’t you come in for a drink?”

“…You sure?”

“Yes. I – I’ve got a lovely vintage I’ve been saving.”

“…”

“Er. Doesn’t have to be alcohol if you’d prefer just some tea. Rations are tight lately with the…war…and everything, but I’ve got some stashed away.”

“…”

“Crowley, say something.”

“Ugh. Sorry. Yes, let’s head in. Vintage sounds great.”

“You look faint. Are you ill?”

“Fine. Just need to sit down.”

“Oh? Oh, my goodness! Your boots are smoking!”

“Yeah, but don’t fuss. It’ll stop in a bit.”

“Get in here this instant! Come along now. There! Sit. Good. I’m taking your shoes and socks off.”

“It’s not that bad, Aziraphale-“

“Hush up. You’re clearly hurt, stop being ridiculous.”

“Agh! Ow.”

“Oh. Oh…my.”

“Looks that good, huh?”

“Oh, Crowley…”

“Stop with the face! Honestly barely even hurts, I swear. Demon’s honor.”

“Demons-“

“Don’t have honor, yeah. Look, it’ll fade in a few days. Maybe a week. Not the first time I’ve accidentally ended up on consecrated ground. I can handle it.”

“This wasn’t accidental, though! Oh, dearie me. I don’t know a _thing_ about modern medicine. Humans have had horrible ideas about how it worked for millennia, and my miracles won’t do a thing for holy wounds…”

“You don’t want to get anyone’s attention with miracles right now, anyway. Seriously, it’s not a big deal. I’ll…well, I’d say I’ll walk it off but it’s more like I’ll sit it off. That just sounds weird. Sleep it off? Sleep it off! That’s the one.”

“I don’t know how you’re making jokes in this situation! Are you sure it will simply go away? That wound looks…”

“Yeah, it’s not so pretty. But I’ve had worse before, once or twice. Well, once. Fourteenth century really was bull all around, wasn’t it?”

“Admittedly, not one of my favorites. Pestilence sure was busy in those days. But if you’re sure there’s nothing I can do-“

“I am-“

“I’ll just get you some tea, shall I?”

“Nah, lets go straight for the hard stuff.”

“Alright. I have been looking forward to opening this bottle, but I haven’t had an occasion for it! I’ll be just a moment.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“I’m back! I’ve got – oh.”

“…”

“Oh, dear. You’ve fallen asleep, have you? My, you must be much more tired than you were letting on, poor thing. This war is running us all ragged and diverting a bomb on top of those wounds – I hadn’t even considered. Let me just get a blanket situated over you. I know you run cold.”

“…”

“There you are. We’ll save the drinks for another time.”

“…”

“You look so peaceful like this. I wish you could look like this all the time. Without any worries.”

“…”

“I know I’m the source of so many of those worries. I am sorry.”

“…”

“I simply hadn’t realized, is all. That you…felt the same. Until today. I didn’t know you even could…”

“…”

“Oh, I’ll hush up and let you sleep. Goodnight, dear.”

1941 again but the next day

_Thanks for lending me your sofa. But a tartan blanket, really? Think of my reputation._

_Sorry to sleep and run while you’re busy with the customers, but I’ve got places to be, people to tempt. Might want to dust, I met at least a half dozen spiders just trying to find a damn pen._

_Anyway. See you around. I think? Whatever._

_[unintelligible]_

_-C_

1950

“Just call him.”

“…”

“Fuck. I can’t call him.”

“…”

“Are you a bloody teenager? Just dial his number.”

“…”

“…”

“Hello, this is A. Z. Fell’s. What might you be calling for today?”

“…”

“Hello?”

“…”

_Click._

“Well, that was a disaster.”

1967

“Crowley, it’s too dangerous. Holy water won’t just kill your body, it will destroy you completely.”

“You told me what you think a hundred and five years ago-“

“And I haven’t changed my mind. But I can’t have you risking your life, not even for something dangerous. So…you can call off the robbery.”

“…”

“Don’t go unscrewing the cap.”

“…”

“…”

“It’s the real thing?”

“The holiest.”

“…”

“…”

“After everything you said.”

“…”

“Should I say thank you?”

“…Better not.”

“Well, can I drop you anywhere?”

“No, thank you. Oh, don’t look so disappointed. Perhaps one day we could…I don’t know. Go for a picnic. Dine at the Ritz.”

“I’ll give you a lift. Anywhere you want to go.”

“…You go too fast for me, Crowley.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“What the _fucking fuck_ does that mean?!”

1969

“Just…fucking…call him! You completely twat!”

“…”

“Ugh. But what if he doesn’t want to talk to me?!”

“…”

“Still don’t know what ‘too fast’ means.”

“…”

“Maybe he just meant my driving.”

“…”

“I hope he meant my driving.”

“…”

“Otherwise, I mean…six thousand years. Is not. Fast.”

“…”

“Humans will land on the moon faster than I get to hold his fucking hand. Quite literally, actually. Space Race is on and all.”

“…”

“Maybe They really should’ve put it on the moon.”

1975

_Dear Angel,_

_I_

_Dammit_

_Nope. Not doing this anymore._

2008

“I’m afraid we’re quite definitely closed.”

“Aziraphale, it’s me. We need to talk.”

“Yes…yes, I rather think we do. I assume this is about-“

“Armageddon, yes. Meet me at the second alternate rendezvous.”

“Right. That’s the number 19 bus – or was it the tea place off Shaftesbury Avenue in the West End?”

“St. James, Aziraphale. We’ve covered this-“

“Yes, don’t get testy.”

“I’m a demon, I don’t get _testy._ Tomorrow, then.”

2019

“There is no ‘our side,’ Crowley! Not anymore…it’s over.”

“Ah. Right. Well then.”

“…”

“Have a nice doomsday. You know I won’t.”

Still 2019

“You’re so clever! How can anyone as clever as you be _so_ stupid?!”

“…I forgive you, dear.”

“…Ugh. I’m going home, angel. I’m getting my stuff and I’m _leaving_. And when I’m off in the stars, I – I won’t even _think_ about you!”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“I’ve been there. You’re better off without ‘im.”

“…So I’m told.”

2019 keeps going somehow

“Well. That’s that. It was nice knowing you.”

“We can’t give up now!”

“This is Satan. Himself. This isn’t about Armageddon, this is personal. We are _fucked!”_

“…”

“…”

“Crowley, come up with something! Or – or I’ll never talk to you again!”

“…Argh! Fucking damned shitty bullocks, fine!”

2019 yet again

“Oh, angel…it…burned down, remember?”

“…”

“You can…stay at my place. If you like.”

“I-I don’t think my side would like that…”

“You don’t have a side anymore. Neither of us do. We’re on our own side.”

“…”

“…”

“If…if it wouldn’t be too much, trouble, then…”

“You know you’re always welcome, angel. Come on, bus is here.”

2019 when alle is fayed and all is done

“Oh, watch your step there.”

“I – goodness! Is…is that…?”

“Yup. Ligur. What’s left of him, anyway.”

“…The holy water. You used it.”

“Sure did. Always said it wasn’t for me.”

“Yes. So you did. I’m…glad you had it, then.”

“…Me too. Come on, let’s get some alcohol in our veins.”

“Let me just clean this up right quick.”

“’Kay, I’ll just-“

“Don’t you dare try to jump over it like vaulting horse with a death wish! You will wait in this hallway until I’m done. At the end. Back a bit more. There. Stay put.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Alright, it should be clear now. The ground might be a touch consecrated so just sidestep it. I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do about that…you may need to relocate.”

“Eh. Hell and Heaven are coming after us. Doubt there will be any me to relocate in a day or two.”

“…”

“Bad joke. Sorry. Let’s just…”

“Yes.”

“…”

“…”

“I must say, my dear, I don’t think much of your décor.”

“Me either. But you never know when Hell will come around and it wouldn’t really suit to look _cozy._ Besides, I was usually over at the booksh…erm.”

“Ah. Rather.”

“…Sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Still. You deserve an apology from someone, even if it’s just me.”

“Crowley…”

“So, wine? Nah, let’s go harder. Whiskey, vodka, rum?”

“Crowley, we still have to think about the prophecy. It said-“

“Yes, I know what it said, and I know what it means, and I know you know what it means, too.”

“I’m not certain it will work…”

“’Angel. Demon. Probably explode.’”

“Oh, that was a rather good impression!”

“Thanks, been practicing. Not really. Anyway, it’s our only bet, so do we really have the luxury of pretending differently?”

“…I suppose not. Oh, I do hope it works.”

“Want to try it?”

“No. But we must. The alcohol can wait until after we’re sure we can manage it.”

“Fine.”

“Hand?”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Golly, this is rather strange.”

“For the love of Someone, never, ever say ‘golly’ in my voice again.”

“You must admit, my dear, it is rather disconcerting. You’re so…leggy.”

“And you’re like being wrapped in blankets. Geez, your hips are so stiff.”

“Oh, stop that immediately! It looks positively incorrect to see me swiveling like that.”

“Well, at least we didn’t explode.”

“Quite. Everything seems to be in order. All the right limbs and such. So, it’s just a matter of our impressions of one another.”

“Oh, am I going to get to hear you swear for the first time in your existence?”

“Erm.”

“What?”

“Well. I. May have. Ah. Sworn earlier.”

“What?! _And I missed it?_ When was this?”

“Before I discorporated.”

“Ah.”

“Yes.”

“Well, second’s not so bad. Come on, say ‘fuck.’”

“Oh, don’t say it while in my corporation, Crowley. I won’t stand for you defiling it like that.”

“I’m already defiling it! You’ve got a demon inside of you-“

“Don’t resort to innuendos, it’s uncouth!”

“That wasn’t even intentional, actually. Jeez, get your mind out of the gutter, Aziraphale.”

“You are unbe _lie_ vable.”

“You’d think you’d be used to me by now.”

“Ah, eh hem. F-Fuck off, angel.”

“…Wow, that’s just weird.”

“Agreed. Oh, I didn’t even – is calling you ‘angel’ okay? That’s what you call me, but I don’t mean to-“

“I’m not offended.”

“Ah, good. Wait, not good! No four-letter words! I’m much too demonic for them!”

“Laying it on a bit thick there, angel.”

“Don’t pretend you aren’t perfectly melodramatic about it. You shoved me against a wall at the convent just for calling you ‘nice’! Which you are.”

“Yeah, well, shut up.”

“Oh, well done.”

“Whatever. Look, will you take the sunglasses off? It’s unnerving not being able to see your eyes. My eyes, I guess.”

“Oh, woe is you, my dear. I can’t possibly imagine what that might be like, not being able to see your best friend’s eyes, ever, for thousands of years.”

“Okay, okay, you’ve made your point, just take them off!”

“Do you promise not to wear them anymore after we survive this?”

“The humans-“

“When we’re alone.”

“…Sure, yes, fine. Whatever.”

“Lovely. Better?”

“Yeah.”

“…”

“You called me your best friend, Aziraphale.”

“Well, so did you, my dear.”

“Yeah, but before, you said…nevermind.”

“Shall we switch back until morning?”

“You might need to practice me a bit more, first. That was not at all _up to snuff.”_

“Nah. You think I don’t know your persona well enough, angel? Hell won’t suspect a damn thing.”

“W-Where the Heaven were you hiding that impression earlier?!”

“Never you mind, my dear. Now, shall we?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

“…”

“So, alcohol, now?”

“Indeed.”

“Thank fuck.”

2019, The First Day of such and such

“Right. Time to leave the garden. Let me…tempt you to a spot of lunch?”

“Temptation accomplished!”

“Great.”

“Hmm, what about the Ritz? I believe a table for two has just miraculously come free.”

“Ahh…”

2019, one more time

“So, angel, I’ll be totally honest. I am tired as fuck and fully intend to sleep for at least a month when we’re done here.”

“Ah. Of course, I’d imagine you must be so drained! Even I’m a touch worn. Though I am quite contented to be back in my bookshop again.”

“…Still can’t believe it’s all here.”

“You saw it burn, didn’t you?”

“Saw it? I was inside it, angel. ‘S how I got the book, after all.”

“Oh? Oh! My dear, no wonder you – er, well. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“Me too. Just glad it’s back. Feels a little…dream-like, though. Like it’s not quite reality. Maybe that’s just ‘cause I’m tired.”

“Yes, you should likely get to sleep.”

“Right, I’ll head out, then-“

“Or, you could, ah, not?”

“…Wot?”

“It’s just…there’s a perfectly serviceable sofa here. You slept here before, remember?”

“Of course, I remember. But I just said I’m sleeping for a month!”

“Oh, good point. A sofa wouldn’t likely be comfortable for so long.”

“That’s not what I-“

“You may find that the bedroom in the flat above the bookshop is suitable, however.”

“A bedroo – angel, there’s a flat up there?!”

“Oh, yes, has been since I bought the building.”

“What? Why have I never seen it?”

“…I may or may not have forgotten about it entirely.”

“You forgot you had a flat. Above the shop that you live in. For over two centuries.”

“You could perhaps say that.”

“Good Someone, angel, I love you.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…Ah, shit.”

“Well, there’s no need for such vulgarities, my dear.”

“Wha – guh? Seriously? That’s all you have to say?”

“I just don’t see that there’s a need to swear as much as you do. There are plenty of words in the English language, and plenty of other languages to pick from, besides. Why don’t you speak Sumerian anymore? You always were partial to that one.”

“Aziraphale. Angel. Love of my fucking life. I hate you so, so much.”

“That’s rather contradictory, my dear-“

“Stop talking if you’re just going to say something asinine-“

“That’s rather rude-“

“Angel, I swear-“

“I love you, too, Crowley.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Dear?”

“Shhhut it. ‘M having a moment.”

“Ah. Overwhelmed?”

“Bit.”

“I’ll admit, I am as well. It’s rather a lot to…say it aloud.”

“…”

“The theatrics seem a bit much, though. You’re going to tear out all your hair.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Um, if you’re quite done, I do believe there’s something you’re supposed to do, now?”

“Hrrnng. Wassat?”

“Surely you’ve read at least one romance novel in your time.”

“Ssssaw ssssome movies.”

“So, then?”

“…”

“Oh, goodness gracious. Crowley, please come here and kiss-“

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Mmm. That was rather lovely.”

“…”

“Crowley, are you quite alright?”

“Guhh. Sssstop looking all sssmug.”

“An angel is never smug, dear. Regardless, I rarely get to see you so flustered! It’s a good look on you.”

“…”

“So, is that a yes to using the bedroom upstairs?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Lovely.”

“…”

“You’ll have to get off my lap to get there, dear.”

“Mmm. Comfortable.”

“You’re bent at such awkward contortions; I certainly don’t see how.”

“Sssssnake.”

“Ah, of course. Then I suppose I’ll just have to-“

“Gah! Aziraphale!”

“Yes?”

“Put me down!”

“No.”

“Put. Me. Down.”

“No.”

“This is a fucking _bridal carry!”_

“Ah. So it is.”

“Hah! You’re finally blushing, too! Take that!”

“Mmm. Well. I hope you realize how ridiculous you are.”

“I’ll have you know that…angel, seriously? _That_ is your bed?”

“It came with the building, I’m afraid. Here, let me – there we are, that looks much better.”

“I am not sleeping in a bed with a paisley duvet. Not if you paid me.”

“We don’t strictly need money, my dear.”

“Not ‘m point. Put me down, already.”

“Here you are.”

“’S very soft.”

“Too much?”

“Nah, I like soft.”

“…”

“Why’re you sssmiling at me like that? What’d I say?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, my dear. Let’s get you all situated, then. Oh! Are those pajamas silk?”

“Yup.”

“They’re very nice. Could use a tartan collar.”

“I will never, ever forgive you for that.”

“I’ll take my chances, love.”

“…”

“Are you going to do that every time I call you ‘love’?”

“N-No?”

“I think you are. That’s very-“

“Stop-“

“Cute.”

_“Cute?!”_

“Yes.”

“I am a demon! You complete basssstard.”

“Demon or not. Are you comfy?”

“Ugh. Yeah.”

“Lovely. I’ll leave you to it, then.”

“…Angel?”

“Yes?”

“This is a…pretty large bed, you know. Spacious. Expansive, even.”

“You know, if you want to something, you need only ask.”

“…Just saying. You could. Read here. For a bit. Just ‘til I fall asleep, or something.”

“…”

“I’m going to discorporate. Stop looking at me like that!”

“You’re simply going to have to get used to it. I don’t have to pretend I don’t love you anymore, so I shan’t. Not a moment longer.”

“…That’sss fine, I guessss. Go on, get your book and cocoa.”

“I’ll be right back, then.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Smells like you in here.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“I’ve got my _Jane Eyre_ second edition. A romance seemed appropriate.”

“Yeah, yeah, just get over here.”

“Let me change right quick. I’ve got my old nightgown around here somewhere…”

“…”

“Oh! Oh, this is rather comfortable. It’s even in my tartan. Cotton, yes?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Thank you, love. Now, let me just…there. Ah, this is quite comfortable. I’ll lower the lights in here, I can just use the lamp.”

“…”

“Come closer, Crowley. No need to hover on the other end of the bed.”

“…”

“Are you all settled?”

“Mmm hmm. Warm.”

“That was the hope, my silly snake.”

“Don’t call me that…”

“Just go to sleep, there’s a good chap. Don’t bother objecting to that.”

“G’night, angel…”

“Goodnight, Crowley.”

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, what idiots


End file.
